


And Now We're Here

by Random_Fandom_writer



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Aftermath, But only because she is griefing, Can you tell I suck at endings?, Connor is not ok, Evan's not ok either, Heavy Angst, Jared Being an Asshole, Jared is also kind of an insensitive jerk, M/M, Suicide, Zoe is a jerk, but that doesn't matter anymore does it?, here comes the angst train, i don't know what to tag, obviously, oops spoiler alert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-18 20:36:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19342147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random_Fandom_writer/pseuds/Random_Fandom_writer
Summary: The panic is gone. That was over a long time ago. He panicked, he sobbed, he screamed, he pulled at his hair.And now it's gone, leaving a hollow pit where it used to be.A pit where Connor used to be.Or...Something bad has happened.





	And Now We're Here

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my dudes. It is officially summer vacation which means I'll be able to write more often so whoot!
> 
> Trigger Warnings: Suicide, anxiety/anxiety attacks, implied/referenced homophobia, self hatred, unhealthy eating habits, swearing, implied/reference self harm

"Evan."

"Connor? Hi um, why are you calling is everything ok?" The receiver crackled and Evan cringed away from the speaker. Off-brand piece of shit.

"Yeah, I'm fine I just- I wanted to hear your voice."

Evan smiled softly. "And that couldn't have waited until tomorrow?"

He was met with silence on the other end.

_'Ok, that's worrying.'_

"Do you need me to come over?"

"No. No, I don't I'm fine just... I love you a lot, you know that?"

"I love you too." He was sure Connor could hear the smile in his voice. "But if you need anything you can talk to me-"

"Yeah I know. Goodbye."

"Oh, bye? I'll see you tomorrow?"

The phone disconnected.

 

* * *

 

"Evan Hansen to the office please, Evan Hansen to the office."

He felt his cheeks burn as twenty something faces turned to stare at him as he gathered his things, sped walked out of the classroom, and beginning to rack his brain for anything that might have earned him a ticket to the office.

_'What did you do Evan? What- oh my God they're going to expel you aren't they? Then you'll be kicked out of school, and you'll have to find someplace else with no friends- no Connor- and mom will be disappointed in you, and she'll give you that look like she always does and- this is definitely going on your permanent record. How are you going to get into a good college when they see you've been expelled and-'_

He opened the door to the principal's office, taken aback to find a woman crying in an office chair, being consoled by a sharply dressed middle-aged man.

"O-oh I'm sorry I'm- Is Mr. Howard..."

"Are you Evan?" The woman spoke, lifting her head which had been resting in her hands to meet Evan's eyes. Neither waited for him to answer, ushering him to sit in an unoccupied chair.

The man spoke this time. "We're uh, we're Connor's parents.

"Oh." _'They know, they know, they know.'_ They know about him and Connor, which based on what Connor had said, is a no good very bad thing.

The woman, Mrs. Murphy he assumed, pulled out a folded piece of paper from her purse. She holds it gently, brushing her fingers over it softly.

"Why don't you go ahead honey."

She snaps her watery eyes up to him, glaring with an intense bitterness Evan didn't think she was capable of. "I'm going as fast as I can."

"That's not what I said is it?"

Evan blinks, tensing slightly as he gets ready to bolt. "Sorry should I...?" He trails off as he sees Mrs. Murphy beginning to hand him the note.

"This is- Connor. He wanted you to have this."

Evan stares at the note, unmoving. Something is telling him this is bad. Very bad, and he'd like to get back to class now please but Mrs. Murphy is staring at him with a broken gaze, and Evan can't remember the last time he's seen someone so _sad._

So he takes the note. "He um, he gave this to you?"

"We didn't know you two were..." Mr. Murphy trailed off. "Friends."

The redhead blinks in shock, turning to meet the others gaze for the first time. "Friends? _Really_ Larry?"

He pales, because they _know,_ and it's not just his anxiety telling him that. He feels sick, and _'I'd like to go now, please let me leave.'_

Larry grimaces, not taking his eyes off Mrs. Murphy. "We didn't think Connor had a..." He cuts himself off, grimacing slightly. "And then we see this note and it's- it pretty clearly suggests that you and Connor were... Close." He points to the letter in Evan's hand. "I mean it's right there. 'Dear Evan Hansen.' It's addressed to you, he wrote it _to you."_

"Wrote? It? What- what is..." His voice is a whisper, and he internally cringes. _'Speak louder you idiot.'_

Mrs. Murphy chokes on a sob, lifting a shaking hand to her mouth. "These were the words he wanted to share with you. His... Last words."

This is worse. Much worse than he'd imagined, and now his hands are shaking, and he is shaking, and even the _fucking room_ is shaking.

"Last- last words?" 

They share a look and Evan immediately wants to curl into a ball and cry because  _'stop, stop making that face.'_ That awful face that bleeds with pity.

"Connor, uh. Connor took his own life." The words come out stuttered, but his face remains nonchalant. Evan really wants to punch it. He continues when he gets no reply. "This is all we found him with. He had it folded up in his pocket. You can see he's- he wanted to explain it, why he... 'I wish everything was different. I wish I were part of something. I wish what I said mattered to anyone.' "

Cynthia claps her hands over her ears, and Evan immediately wants to do the same. He wants out. He _needs_ out. So he stands, gripping the side of the now empty seat for support. "I'm sorry, I should go can- can I please go?" His voice is watery and hurried. 

"No, please can you-" Mrs. Murphy stands as well, walking to stand in front of Evan and jabbing a finger into the note. "Tell us what he means, what did he mean by this? All my hope is pinned on _them_ -"

"Cynthia, please calm down." Larry reaches out a hand to rest on her shoulder, who quickly bats it off. Evan takes the opportunity to inch closer to the door, reaching for the handle.

He feels Gross. Gross with a capital 'g', because Connor is _dead dead dead_ and he can't change that. He clenches the hand that's currently holding onto the door handle with a death grip, taking in a shallow breath. "I should really go." He keeps his eyes on the ground. He's afraid of what he'll see if he looks up.

"Cynthia, honey let him go, the boy is clearly in shock."

Evan flinches when she raises her voice. _"This is all we have left."_

She stumbles back, collapsing back into her chair in a fit of sobs.

He slips out the door.

 

* * *

 

Evan finds his way to his bed, flopping on his stomach onto the blankets.

He cries.

He cries until the sky morphs into a blanket of black.

He cries until his eyelids are cracked and dry from salty tears.

He cries until he feels numb. Lost of feeling.

Crying does that to you.

The panic is gone. That was over a long time ago. He panicked, he sobbed, he screamed, he pulled at his hair.

And now it's gone, leaving a hollow pit where it used to be.

A pit where Connor used to be.

 

* * *

 

The funeral was lavish, obviously. Only the best for everyone's favorite student.

Right?

Oh no, that wasn't Connor. Sorry, for the mix up.

Connor was not everyone's favorite student, unlike what everyone's Facebook and Instagram is saying.

Connor was... Imperfect. Yeah, he was imperfect, but he was no monster. Evan could tell, because a monster doesn't care. A monster doesn't care if his hair is greasy, or if he gets a bad grade on his English paper. A monster doesn't care when people call him so.

No. Connor ~~cares~~ cared. And he cared about Evan.

And Evan ~~cared~~ cares about him. He still does.

He doesn't know if he'll ever stop.

For now, Evan will care. He'll care so much that he spends the entire reception stored away in Connor's room. He'll care so much that he'll steal a sweatshirt from the laundry hamper because it smells like him. And for a bit he'll be able to pretend.

 

* * *

 

They're worried about him, Jared and Heidi. They tell him to _'get out of bed Evan, please Evan. Eat something Evan, it's been days. Do this Evan, do that Evan. Stop being a fucking failure already and do something productive Evan.'_

Ok maybe not that last one. That one was all him.

***

It's weird to have Jared paying attention to him for once.

All it took was for someone to die and bam. Friendship instantly rekindled.

"Hey buddy, what's crack-a-lacking."

Speaking of the devil.

"Have you gotten out of bed yet? Oh, I know what the answer is. What is... Of fucking course not." He smirks at his own joke, the half smile vanishing from his face when Evan remains unresponsive. "It's four in the afternoon Evan." It startles him how quickly he can change his tune from snarky to serious.

"I know."

"It speaks!"

_'Ha. Good one Jared. You are hilarious.'_

"Heidi won't be home for another couple hours. She wanted me to keep you company." Evan knows a lie when he hears one. He knows his mom doesn't trust him not to make any stupid decisions if given the opportunity to be alone. So Jared is his babysitter for the time being. "I was thinking a movie. How about 'Die Hard'?"

"...Isn't that a Christmas movie?"

"But Bruce Willis."

No response seems like a good enough answer to him because he pulls out Evan's laptop and opens Netflix.

***

Heidi does not return in what Jared said would be a couple hours.

In fact, it's not until about three in the morning when she comes through the front door. Evan knows. He hasn't fallen asleep yet, because despite popular belief, he hasn't slept in days.

Jared fell asleep long ago, the laptop shoved lazily on his floor while he shifts on the inflatable mattress provided for him.

He's overwhelmed with how lonely he feels.

Obviously he's not alone. At least not physically. With Jared on his floor, and Heidi across the hall.

But he feels alone. Because he's selfish. He's selfish because he wants _more._ He wants what he can't have. He wants what he used to have. Things aren't the same anymore, and it can't go back to normal. Because Connor is gone, gone for good.

He doesn't like being lonely.

 

* * *

 

The Murphy's invited him over for dinner. To talk about Connor.

He said no obviously. He doesn't think he'd be able to face the Murphy's, knowing what they made Connor's life like.

He called it a living hell, and from what Evan could tell from the few short words they shared, he thinks he's right.

 

* * *

 

Zoe bombards him at school when he's finally well enough to show up.

It takes all his strength not to break down then and there.

"So I heard about you and my brother." Zoe simply stares at him, unblinking and unimpressed.

He blushes. "Um, y-yeah just... Not many people know so can you maybe...?" He makes a shushing motion with his hand.

"...Sure." He stutters out a thanks which Zoe fails to respond to, instead, changing the topic. "I'm not buying it you know."

He tenses. "Buying what?"

"The whole _secret lover_ thing. Connor was not... He'd never date someone like you." She must see Evan flinch and his eyes beginning to water because she backtracks. "You're to sweet. Anxious, I mean. Connor wouldn't go for it."

"If- if you're just here to insult me you can go." _'I already get enough from Jared.'_

"I just wanted to ask what you get from it."

"I'm not faking-"

"Is it for attention? Do you think everyone will come running when they find out it was your _'boyfriend'-_ " She puts finger quotations around the word boyfriend. "That just _killed himself?_ Do you-" She stops when she sees him back into a row of lockers, tears welling in his eyes.

"What the fuck Zoe." Jared rushes over to his side, placing a protective hand on his shoulder whist glaring at Zoe. "Are you fucking interrogating him?"

"I just wanted to know-"

 _"He's telling the truth."_  

Zoe takes a step back, paling slightly before turning tail and speed walking away.

_'At least now we know Connor's not the only one in the family with a temper.'_

***

By the end of the day Evan feels like he's going to explode.

Connor was everywhere he turned.

Connor this, Connor that, what a _tragedy_.

Some students were selling buttons. Buttons with his fucking face on them.

 

"RIP Connor."

...

"I'll miss you Connor."

...

"You were a good dude."

...

"Remember band class in the fourth grade?"

...

"We hung out that one time."

...

"You always had great hair."

 

It's infuriating. Because Evan is the only one who _actually knew_ Connor. And here everyone is, pretending he was a better person than he actually was.

Pretending they were better people _to_ him.

Pretending that they were not the ones taunting him, and hitting him, and calling him names and...

Pretending that they were not the ones who drove him to this point.

He wants to scream, scream at all of them to _'shut up, shut up all of you. Every one of you hated him. Whether you had a reason or not. Stop. Lying. To. Yourselves.'_

Alana is on that list of people.

They were acquaintances. Close acquaintances.

Right... 

***

When Alana approaches him a week after the incident he sees red.

"Everyone has forgotten about Connor. Last week everyone was wearing those wristbands and the buttons with his face on them. People were talking to each other that never talked to each other before. And now... It's all gone. You _have_ to do something."

He was not expecting that.

"Why- why do I have to do something?" He nervously picked at his shirt, looking at Alana through anxious eyes.

"I know about you and Connor."

He tenses, glancing around the cafeteria to check if anyone was listening in before letting out a shaky breath. "W-what? How- who told-"

"Nobody else knows. I um, well I overheard you and Zoe in the hallway a few days ago- that was very rude of her by the way." She keeps her hands wrapped tightly around her backpack straps as she sits down beside Evan. "Maybe you and her could do something together. For Connor."

It’s just- I don’t know if that’s the best way to get people to remember him." It sounds like a great idea actually, but Connor wouldn't like it. He didn't do _it_ to be recognized as another teen tragedy. To be romanticized and twisted into the version everyone wanted to see.

Alana's eyes flickered, an intensity flashing through her that had not been present before. Almost angry. "Well I can guarantee you that if you don't do something, no one will remember him. Is that what you want? Don't you care that Connor is disappearing?"

The red is back. He clenches his teeth because _how dare she._ How dare she eavesdrop on a _private_ conversation with sensitive information. How dare she act like her and Connor were close enough to warrant this.

And how _fucking_ dare she ask if Evan cares.

"Alana. _They don't want to remember Connor_. They'd rather move on with their shitty lives and forget he existed. Nobody in this _fucking room_ actually gave a shit about him. They're all just acting nice because they don't want to come off as the _asshole_ that made fun of the _dead kid_." He pushed off of the table, hoisting his bag over his shoulder and adding; "And yeah, of course I care about Connor. I don't- can't-  _I care_ Alana. A lot. I'm starting to think I'm the only one who does."

 

* * *

 

He feels better he supposes, after he gets the anger out of his system.

Then comes the panic.

_'What did I just do?'_

 ***

"Alana-"

"No."

"Wait please let me-"

"Save it."

 

* * *

 

After a month, Evan was still filled with anger.

On the second, came the depression.

On the third he felt tired.

So fucking tired.

On the fourth month he found Connor's suicide note, which he'd buried in the depths of his closet as soon as he arrived home that day. He'd yet to read it.

No better time than the present.

***

_Dear Evan Hansen,_

_I don't really know what to say other than sorry, because I know out of everyone you'll be the one to miss me. Isn't that the saddest fucking thing you've ever heard?  Because_ _there's them, and I doubt that they'll miss me. All my hope is pinned on them, who I don't even know and who doesn't even know me._

_That sounds weirdly poetic doesn't it?_

_There's nothing poetic about this though, so maybe just forget you read that part._

_I guess I just wish things were different._

_If everything was different, maybe I could talk to you in public. Maybe I could kiss you, or just fucking hold your hand. Maybe I wouldn't be so afraid._

_I wish everything was different. I wish that I was a part of something. I wish that anything I said mattered to anyone._ _Face it. Would anyone even care if I just fucking disappeared?_

_Sincerely,_

_Me_

***

He read it once.

Twice.

Three times.

He read it until he could recite it off the back of his eyelids.

Again, and again, and again.

He can vaguely tell he's on the floor now, curling tighter and tighter into himself as his breathing turns erratic.

Four months of progress. Gone.

"Evan, Ev baby what's wrong?" Heidi rushes in, stopping low to his level. She pales as she sees the note clutched in his fist. "Is that? Oh sweetie I'm sorry." 

Heidi scoops Evan into her arms and he immediately writhes in her hold. She doesn't let go, only runs her fingers through his hair and quietly shushes him.

"I know honey, I know." She coos to him as he chokes back a sob. "Let it out."

***

His muscles ache from shaking so badly. It doesn't help that he's been sitting on the floor for close to an hour, but what can you do?

Heidi plants a kiss to his head, smiling softly. "One day this will all feel so small, I promise. And I'll be there until that day."

Evan doesn't know how much longer he can wait.

He just wants it to stop.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, I manage to produce some Connor angst and still find a way to make it about Evan.
> 
> Also...
> 
> I thrive on comments. I am not kidding. Getting a comment sends straight dopamine to my dumbass brain.
> 
> I didn't know if I should have killed Evan off too, or gave him a life in which he finished grieving healthily and survived past it, so I left it open for you to decide.  
> Something I feel I should include, is that Evan comes off as extremely bitter because he is grieving. He's also sick of how many people began to romanticize Connor's death.


End file.
